


Something There

by cielsdemon



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-13 04:53:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cielsdemon/pseuds/cielsdemon
Summary: A collection of Grelliam moments as seen through the eyes of everyone but Will or Grell.





	1. Ronald, a Junior

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo, long time no see! Happy New Year, and all that. I hope 2018 is treating you well. I have here for your enjoyment the beginning of a fun little collection of ficlets. I'm capping things at six right now, since that's all I have written, but if any of you have requests as we go along I'd be glad to hear them and I just might write one!
> 
> Please enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronald happens upon a covert kiss in the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ronnie, you're up first.

Ron rounds the corner with a spring in his step. He’s hot off a successful reap and he clocks out at four today, just in time for happy hour at his favorite bar with his favorite General Affairs manager. Cindy should be waiting for him at the bar, and all he needs to do is write up this report and he can be on his way.

  


Voices give him pause as he continues down the corridor. They’re soft, familiar, and he peers around a second corner to see his two seniors standing very close together just outside a closed door. He can’t hear what they’re saying but they appear relaxed. Grell has one shoulder leaned against the wall and one knee bent, weight on her toes. She’s leaning ever closer to Will, who hasn’t so much as moved and in fact seems to be gravitating inexplicably into her space.

  


Will’s eyes dart furtively to the left but Grell doesn’t hesitate to lift the folder she’s carrying in front of their faces and lean forward to press their mouths together. When she drops it, Ron can clearly see the red blush staining Will’s cheekbones. He adjusts his glasses and says something that makes Grell laugh as she touches his shoulder. Will’s hand lifts briefly to touch her wrist and they share a warm glance that makes Ron’s stomach squirm with something like guilt at witnessing it. He feels as though he’s intruding on something private and yet he can’t bring himself to look away.

  


A moment later, Will and Grell part and walk past each other as if nothing happened. Will strides toward him and Ron pretends as though he just turned the corner and hasn’t been standing about like a creep for the past five minutes.

  


“Knox,” Will says, nodding.

  


“Senior.”

  


They pass each other without incident. Ron lets out a soft breath and continues on his way, unable to keep a faint smile off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Quick question: what sort of posting schedule would you all like? Perhaps an update or two a week? These are all complete stories in their own right but they follow a theme so they're being posted all together. Chapter fics aren't my forte so I'm feeling a bit lost on how often people look for updates.


	2. Byron, a Supervisor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unconventional pep-talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the positive feedback on this so far! I wasn't expecting so much and I'm so happy, so thank you! :') I wanted to have this second chapter up yesterday but time got away from me. It's here now though and I might post another tomorrow too! Remember, if you have a request you're free to leave it in the comments!! 
> 
> Enjoy :)

The conference room has glass walls. This isn’t a metaphor; it’s fact. Any reaper walking by might peer inside if they find themselves curious about their higher-ups discussions. Byron Stevenson, a rather short, round fellow only recently promoted to supervisor, finds himself outside the aforementioned conference room more than half an hour early.

  


In the building already for an unrelated errand, he thought he might as well get himself settled prior to his late-morning presentation.

  


There are voices coming from the doorway. Mildly panicked, Byron draws out his pocket-watch and checks the time—he’s still as early as he was three minutes ago. Then who in the world is—

  


Ah.

  


Peeking around the corner, Byron spots one of the younger managers, Spears, in the arms of an unfamiliar redhead. She—he’s assuming, based on the length of her hair and the height of those heels—has his face in her gloved hands and is speaking to him in a soft, lyrical voice. He nods, looking faintly exasperated, and says something that makes the redhead pinch his cheek.

  


Byron watches Spears pull out of her grasp only to be drawn back in by a hand on his tie. The redhead says something else too low for Byron to hear, then pulls off a glove and begins fixing Spears’ already immaculate hair. The expression on his face softens and even from this distance, Byron can see Spears’ eyes gliding across the redhead’s features and lingering on her mouth. He says something brief and she leans in and—

  


He shouldn’t be watching this. Spears is a colleague and although they haven’t spoken much, he knows him to be polite and private; he would hate being observed during a moment like this. Still, he wouldn’t have thought Spears the type to cultivate a relationship… Maybe just one more—

  


No.

  


Byron waits until he hears the clack of heels moving away before he steps around the corner. And nearly collides with the redhead. “Oh! My apologies, miss...” He trails off and looks up, and up into the infamously familiar face of one Grell Sutcliff. His mouth falls open. She smiles at him, sharp teeth on broad display, and hands him the projector remote that he nearly dropped.

  


“Don’t give it another thought, darling. Are you here for the meeting?” He nods, struck dumb. Spears is with _her?_ He’s heard talk—quiet, gossip-filled talk—of the bizarre relationship those two have had since they were juniors together in the academy, but never believed it. A man like Spears with the wild, destructive force of nature that is Sutcliff? The mere thought was laughable.

  


What he just witnessed was anything but. There was real affection there, from both parties. Spears looked as soft as Byron had ever seen him and Sutcliff seemed more mellow than he—or anyone else for that matter—had thought her capable.

  


She’s still talking. Byron tunes back in. “Oh, do have fun,” she says. “I’m so relieved William is going so I don’t have to. All those stuffy men talking business, _ugh._ Where’s the excitement? No offense, dear.”

  


“None taken,” he responds, and finds that it’s true. That smile is back and slightly less terrifying this time around.

  


“Good man. Well, _au revoir_!” She flounces off, red hair and coat flying behind her. Byron raises his hand in a wave and turns around, shaking his head slowly. What an odd pair, he thinks. Though, in their line of work, who isn’t a little strange?


	3. Alan, a Junior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan solves a curious mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

William comes by in the afternoons, usually half past one, and inspects all of the collection officers' paperwork. He didn't used to, Alan is told, but after one too many late reports, he began a new regime to make sure everyone turned in their work on time.

  


Alan's desk has already been visited and his work deemed exemplary. William even offered him what he belatedly realized was a faint smile, so unaccustomed to the expression on his superior's face that he didn't recognize it. Then he moved on to berating Eric for sloppy penmanship and scolding Ronald for flirting rather than doing his work.

  


He always visits Grell's desk last and Alan has always wondered why. When he asked Eric, all he did was waggle his eyebrows until Alan became so uncomfortable he threw a pen at him. Asking Ronald proved futile – Ronald is even newer to the department than he is and was thus clueless. Grell unsettles him to the point he would be too nervous to ask her anything.

  


Instead of asking, he observes. He watches William reach Grell's desk every day around two and frowns as they speak together too softly for him to hear. This often happens, the two of them murmuring and occasionally pointing at various papers before William goes on his way. Today, William leans over Grell's shoulder, adjusting his glasses with one hand and, when he's finished, dropping that hand to rest on Grell's shoulder. The gesture is absent minded? casual? as if he didn't think before letting his fingers fall there. Grell shifts under the touch, pressing her shoulders back into William's chest, and tips her head slightly to the side. Alan watches with wide eyes as William leans closer, lips moving at Grell's ear. His hand brushes a stray lock of hair over her shoulder, freeing it from under her glasses chain as he straightens.

  


Quickly, before William turns around, Alan grabs the nearest documents and stares at them as if he's never seen them before. His face is beet red and he avoids eye contact as William passes his desk again on his way back to his office.

  


Two minutes later, Grell stands and flounces away, and Alan hears the familiar _click_ of William's office door opening and closing.

  


At least now he knows why Grell is always last.


	4. You, an Observer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're the life of the party for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for all of your lovely comments and kudos! I'm so excited you're all enjoying reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Today's chapter was a bit of an experiment—I've never played much with POVs other than third person but this happened and I was like hmm...I like it. It's not everyone's cup of tea, and that's okay! It's the only chapter of its kind so if you don't like it, no worries. If you do, let me know! It was a fun exercise and I wouldn't mind experimenting some more. Please enjoy!

You don’t usually come to these things. Social drinking has never been high on your list of enjoyment and being pressured by coworkers into imbibing way too much just for the hell of it is not the way you want to spend your Saturday evening.

  


Yet, here you are, nursing a drink alone at a table near the bar. A few friends—acquaintances, really—have stopped by to say hi or buy you a drink. When the next one would come, you would offer them the untouched drink and watch them think you a hero for providing free booze.

  


The one saving grace of parties such as these was the ability to people-watch. You enjoy that. So far you’ve seen Randall, from Sycthes, spectacularly crash and burn trying to ask out Hailey from General Affairs. He has since exiled himself to the bar where he looks about two drinks from passing out. Ronald— _Ron_ , he always tells you, _only the boss calls me Ronald_ —spent about five minutes alone before he was surrounded by ladies from General and Collections. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen him for a while now. Perhaps one of those ladies got lucky.

  


Alan and Eric—where is one without the other?—appeared for a short time, bought themselves a drink, and left as quietly as they came. This isn’t Alan’s scene either, you think, and if Alan wanted to leave, so would Eric.

  


Not many of the higher-ups shoe their faces here nor many supervisors, for that matter. The only once you’ve seen is William, and he appears even less keen to be here than you are. He’s been at the bar for about ten minutes with a glass in his hand a quarter of the way full with amber liquid. Your own glass is similar, though the liquid inside has gone pale with melting ice.

  


A commotion at the door draws her gaze from the bar. Grell has just walked in with the sort of grand flourish she is known for. Arms spread wide, red hair flying, she catches and holds all attention, at least for a time. Someone at a table hands her a drink and she grins as she throws it back and continues on her path toward the bar. Eyes follow her, yours included, as she takes a seat next to William.

  


To your surprise, instead of standing and excusing himself from the drama Grell naturally provides, William slides his drink over and raises his hand for another. Unlike the first drink she downed without looking, Grell savors this one, lips on the glass edge for a long moment as she waits for William to receive his.

  


You’re curious now. You stop looking for other entertainment and focus on the show only a few meters away. The two of them are talking now, heads bent close together to be heard over the loud music and countless rowdy reapers in this building. Grell begins gesturing with her free hand, spinning some kind of elaborate story that has manage to draw and hold William’s attention. Every so often he lifts his drink to his lips but he never once takes his eyes off Grell.

  


When she throws back her head in a laugh loud enough for you to hear, her hand lands on William’s arm. His eyes drop to it and you can see the smile he attempts to hide behind his glass.

  


You’ve already heard there was something going on between those two. Despite their differences and William’s outward demeanor, many swear up and down that there’s something there. You’ve never given those presumptions any clout before now.

  


A few minutes later, still talking, the two of them stand and make their way through the bar. They pass right by your table, completely unaware that you’ve been watching them all evening. That’s how you prefer things.

  


You certainly got your money’s worth tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank evilduckie227 on tumblr for the inspo for this and the next chapter!


	5. Eric, a Senior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric just wants a pudding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! I was working on the other fics I recently posted and this guy sort of fell to the wayside. One more chapter after this! It needs some edits so there may be another slight delay before it's posted... If I can get it completed over the weekend I'll post it early next week. If not...perhaps next weekend. Thanks for your patience and please enjoy!

Eric drops into a seat across from William and lets out a loud, jaw-cracking yawn. He’s recently returned from a triple shift and has only an hour to refuel both himself and his scythe before he’s back on the job. Unperturbed by the interruption, William continues to eat without looking up from the documents he’s studying.

  


“What’ya got there?” Eric asks around a mouthful of his own lunch. Or is it dinner? Time got away from him between one reap and the last.

  


“Reports,” William answers flatly. “Am I correct to assume yours will soon be joining the pile on my desk?”

  


“...Heh, ‘course, boss.” Eric sends a little wish toward the sky that Alan is diligently working on those reports as they speak. William nods and returns to his sandwich. Beside his cup of coffee is another round container of what looks to be dessert. It’s being ignored, and Eric’s growling stomach reminds him that he needs more than last night’s paltry leftovers to keep him going over this extended batch of reaps.

  


“Hey, boss, you gonna eat that?” He points at the dessert—bread pudding, it looks like, and well-made, too—and smiles hopefully.

  


“No.”

  


Eric’s smile broadens. “Do you mind if I—?” He doesn’t finish, as William’s hand darts out and slaps his wrist as he reaches for the cup. “Ow! What in the—” He rubs his wrist, pouting, and swears he catches a glimmer of amusement in William’s eye.

  


Sullenly, Eric turns back to his own lunch and William returns to his. Not five minutes later, Grell glides into the room and perches herself on the edge of their table. They share a brief glance and a smile before William becomes the sole recipient of that piercing green gaze. “Hello lover,” she says, placing a small stack of napkins beside William’s left hand.

  


_What the hell?_ Eric looks between the two of them and wonders if he ought to chalk this up to their usual oddness. It wouldn’t be the first time Grell has handed William something completely arbitrary and he simply accepted it as normal. At least napkins are useful.

  


Without a word or a glance at Eric who _just asked for it_ , William lifts the cup holding the bread pudding and hands it off to Grell. She straightens like a flower in the sun and beams at him as she takes the offered treat and his spoon. “My favorite! You know just when a lady needs a pick-me-up, don’t you?”

  


Hopping off the table, she bends at the waist and tilts William’s chin with two fingers, angling him to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re a peach, Will.” Is that a blush on his face? Eric blinks rapidly. Nah, must be exhaustion causing him to see things. “Bye now!” Grell blows kisses to them both as she whirls out of the room as quickly as she came in.

  


Eric stares after her, then slowly turns his head to look at William. “Huh,” he says. William clears his throat as he lifts a napkin from the pile and wipes his fingers. “If I give you some napkins will I get a pudding?”

  


Now that’s _definitely_ a blush.


	6. Meredith, a Junior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, at the end! I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's been an ongoing project for, oh, over a year I would say. I'm so glad to finally see it finished and posted. I won't say that I'll never come back to this—because I will very likely keep finding new ways to write about Grell and Will in love—but for the time being, it's complete.
> 
> Please enjoy the last installment and thank you, as always, for reading!

It’s all hands on deck for this one. Collected souls are winding up where they shouldn’t and they need to find out why. Meredith has only been in Collections for a short time, held under the stiff supervision of Dispatch Manager Spears. She’s never heard of something like this happening before and certainly not on Senior Spears’ watch.

  


They have all triple checked their work. Senior Spears has done a thorough examination of every collection agent, junior and senior, and found no fault with their methods or their scythes. It’s a conundrum, and one the higher-ups have everyone assisting in solving.

  


Senior Sutcliff has coordinated a search party. Meredith and the rest of her graduating class, as well as the two classes before hers, have been set up in the bullpen with stacks of old ledgers and piles of Records borrowed from the Library. They’ve been at it for hours with little to show for their efforts but the tickle of dust in their noses from all these moldy old books.

  


Privately, Meredith thinks Grell is enjoying the drama of it all.

  


“Miss,” says Meredith suddenly, pulled out of her musings on Grell’s enjoyment of their suffering. One finger shoves at her glasses, pressing them so close to her face she can feel the glass against her eyelashes when she blinks. “Look at this.”

  


Grell crosses behind the desk they’re all spread around, propping one hand on a pile of papers as she peers down at the ledger. “Do you think it could be…?” Meredith trails off, heartbeat pounding in her ears.

  


Grell’s brow furrows as she runs an ink stained finger over thin lines of text, reading carefully. “I don’t know,” she murmurs. “Let’s ask Will.” She raises her voice to be heard over turning pages and quietly talking reapers. “Darling!”

  


“Yes?” Senior Spears replies from across the room, dragging his gaze from the folder he’s studying.

  


The entire room goes silent. Someone clears their throat very softly. Meredith’s eyes are huge behind her wide spectacles. As her seniors stare at each other, it becomes very clear to Meredith that they’re both as surprised as everyone else.

  


She knows, as everyone else does, that there’s something going on between those two. It doesn’t really make sense—not to Meredith anyway. Senior Spears is strict and blunt enough to often come across as mean. Grell is nice, sort of. There’s something about her that puts others on edge, and rightfully so. They’ve all heard about the Ripper.

  


Grell is first to recover. She pulls a smile onto her face and taps the ledger still spread in front of Meredith. “Look here,” she says. “One of mine may have just cracked the case.”

  


Senior Spears crosses the room. As he passes, juniors and seniors alike put their attention back on the ledgers and folders in front of them. No one wants to get caught gaping at the boss. Meredith doesn’t have much choice; Senior Spears and Grell have her trapped at the desk between them.

  


She peeks up through the messy wisps of hair that have fallen out of the puff of coils on top of her head.

  


“This is is it,” Senior Spears says, shoulders dropping with relief. “Finally.” On her other side, Meredith sees Grell’s hands twitch like she was about to grab at Senior Spears but stopped herself.

  


“Fantastic!” she cries instead, throwing her arms wide to address the room at large. “Well done, everyone! Drinks are on your seniors tonight, right Will? As thanks for all of your hard work these past weeks.”

  


“I—” Senior Spears cuts himself off after a sharp look from Grell. “Yes. You’re all dismissed. Meet us at eight for drinks. Our treat.” His eyes drop to Meredith. She freezes, thumb held to her lip. “You have earned yourself a day off,” he adds, a touch softer. “Miss…?”

  


“Murrey,” she answers.

  


“Miss Murrey. Well done.”

  


Meredith smiles and, to her surprise, so does Senior Spears. “Thank you, sir!” He inclines his head and she jumps up from her seat, joining the sea of exhausted reapers trudging out of the bullpen. Now that the crisis is over, most have gained a second wind and are scuttling away to get some rest before drinks tonight. Meredith has been dreaming of a long, hot shower for the past three days.

  


Before she leaves entirely, she glances over her shoulder. Still at the desk are Grell and Senior Spears. William, she thinks, a smile quirking her lips as she sees him wrap an arm around Grell’s waist and draw her close. His lips touch her temple in a kiss that has her deflating at his side. She covers her mouth as she turns her head and tucks it into the crook of William’s shoulder.

  


Turning back around, Meredith hides a smile. Perhaps Senior Spears—William—isn’t a stiff as she thought. And, maybe, Grell isn’t quite as terrifying.

  


At any rate, there’s definitely something there.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos or comments are great appreciated, thank you. Also consider taking a peek at our [blog](http://cielsdemon.tumblr.com).


End file.
